


Moonlight And The Waves

by lisachan



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: It starts with the moonlight and ends with the waves.





	Moonlight And The Waves

**Author's Note:**

> I am a devout worshiper.
> 
> (I should've written this for this year's Italian Porn Fest with prompt "the wave", which additionally required for them to masturbate and feel each other through the link, BUT as it turns out even though I'm Italian the rules of the Fest say that I can't post anything in English GO FIGURE, and that's too bad cos I only write in English these days, so. *shrugs*  
> Also inspired by prompt #19 of my Maritombola card, which was Higher Love by Depeche Mode.)

It starts with the moonlight and ends with the waves.

Rey feels the calling, she has no name for it, she has no explanation. The voice sounds like herself, and then like something completely different. Sweet and childlike and then deep and manly, and weak, and invincible, all at the same time. She walks out on the beach and the moon sings like it’s calling her. And the sea roars around her and the universe is chanting her name in a litany. It’s a dance, an initiation, a religious ceremony. She sits down on the sand and her body comes alive.

Ben only hears her voice. There’s a dark cloud in him, and metal, and blood, and bones, and they all crash against one another like inside a broken machine, and the sound they produce is deafening and violent, but he hears her, he listens to her. The cloud is forced to silence and for a few moments the war stops, and there’s no death, no death anywhere in the universe, no death to be found, just a tragic sense of peace that he doesn’t feel like he belongs to but draws him in just the same. He sits on his bed, on his lonely bed, in his lonely room, he sits down on the mattress and his body comes alive.

Rey closes her eyes and she can see him. Then she opens them again and she can still see him. Not a vision, not a ghost, not some sort of wishing spell. Something real, made of flesh and blood. The whiteness of his skin against the darkness of his clothes. He’s here – he’s there. Somewhere. And usually she’d speak. She’d make him listen. Somehow, she’d tell him what always needs to be told, she’d speak words of peace, she’d try and forge an alliance through their link, if through nothing else. But not tonight. Tonight she just looks at him, at his dark eyes filled with unspeakable rage, and she lets a hand slide between her thighs.

Ben bites at his bottom lip and watches her move. She’s golden and soft, she’s the light, and she’s blinding. He’s never seen anything like her, and he thought he had seen all that was worth seeing. But life has a way of surprising you like that, that’s what he always thinks when he sees her, that’s what seeing her taught him, life has a way of surprising you like that, it’s got a way to take away everything you thought you knew and change it with something with no stability, something scary, something completely, utterly yours, something you think belongs to you since before you were born, something you own by some hidden, secret law of nature, your destiny, your birthright. He stands up from the bed because sitting speaks of distance, and he wants to erase that. And on any other night he’d speak. He’d say something. But tonight, he slips a hand inside his pants.

Rey touches herself and all her skin is tingling, everything she touches turns electric, she melts and she’s the rush of her blood, she’s got no hard part in her body anymore, everything she is is honey and pleasure. She touches herself right where she likes it, and she thinks of his hand touching her the same way. She pushes away shame and disgust for all he represents, for the pain he’s caused to the world, for the plague he keeps spreading throughout the whole universe – if he’s a disease, she’s caught him, if he’s war, she’s fighting him, if he’s pain, she’s feeling him down to her guts, she’s being broken, battered until she’s unrecognizable. She dives in herself, all her core on the tip of two fingers, she throws her head back and she calls him.

Ben touches himself and everything’s pulsing, pleasure breaks something inside him, a dam, a bridge, everything holding him back, everything connecting him to anything else outside of his body disappears, it gets washed away by the river in flood that she is. He only cares for what’s inside him, now, and she’s inside, she trickled inside like water through cracked walls, she’s weakening the foundations of his very being, the good, solid ground he had built his castle on. She’s the earthquake, a comet falling, her tail blinding like the sun, and he’s losing his sight. He’s losing his sight but he’s gaining her. He’s losing his sight but he can still see her, because she’s not out there, she’s right here, in his mind, and as he wraps himself in his own fist, and pumps, and feels all his muscles in his body tense, he throws his head back and calls her.

They get there at the same time, and it’s not a walk, it’s not even a run, it’s a ride, a cavalcade, an army charging, an assault. She fingers herself thinking of his cock and he jerks himself off thinking of her mouth, and it seems to them both that there’s no horror in what they want, that desiring each other so much cannot be a sin in any way, that there must be a reason, yes, a reason why they’re linked, that perhaps the force in its ambivalent power picked a small part of him and left it in her brain, that it picked a shard of her soul and planted it in his heart, and most of the time they couldn’t even explain this, how seeing each other makes their stomachs twist and turn, how it makes them feel, how it makes them believe that they could sense the passing of time, the changing of the seasons, the movements of the clouds on top of their heads, even in the deepest of the universe, where none of this makes sense. How is Rey supposed to explain that when he’s here, even though he isn’t, she feels as though she were powerful enough to give body to love and turn it into something tangible? And how is Ben supposed to describe what it feels whenever he sees her and even though he knows he can’t touch her he feels as though she could grab silence in her own hands and tear it to pieces like a sheet of paper?

They can’t, and they don’t want to, and this is a secret, the secret they cling to, it’s what keeps them alive and no one will never know, no one will ever know that pleasure is a roaring ocean, that touching is the song of the stars, that silence is a feeling and that names are not just names, that they’re prayers, and vows, and that since the beginning of time, since before humankind was born, it has always been like this, way before them both.

That it starts with the moonlight and ends with the waves.


End file.
